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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345283">We're not the ghosts we think we are</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdfghakunamatata/pseuds/asdfghakunamatata'>asdfghakunamatata</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, Realisations, Recovery, San needs a hug, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Love, Social Anxiety, Swearing, Woosan has my heart, Wooyoung is so precious, Wrong Mentalities, but by accident, others are mentioned - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:01:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdfghakunamatata/pseuds/asdfghakunamatata</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was almost as if San had mastered the power of invisibility.</p><p>The way he would always blend into the background, disguise himself as a shadow in a crowd of people and keep himself from being seen.</p><p>For fear he would be judged. For fear that he was a joke to the people around him.</p><p>But that didn't mean he didn't crave for the loneliness that came with it to go away. He just didn't have the power to do so himself.</p><p>But Wooyoung had seen him.</p><p>And Wooyoung wasn't about to let go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Not all ghosts are invisible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first AO3 fic so damn to hell I'm NERVoUS.</p><p>I didn't really have a solid idea for this story. I kinda just thought about San accidentally eating coke brownies and changing his whole demeanour entirely and boom- this fic was born.</p><p>It was suppose to be just a chapter but whoops-</p><p>Anyways, I hope you like it and please leave comments and kudos if you do!</p><p>TW// PANIC ATTACKS &amp; DEPRESSION</p><p>Please do not read if you feel like you'll be triggered. I'm writing based on my experience with social anxiety so don't read if it affects you. I don't want you to be affected from reading my work. So do read with caution.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>San had stopped being afraid of ghosts the day he realised he <em>was</em> one.</p><p>There was no other explanation he could offer. When he roamed the school hallways, no one would bat an eyelash in his direction. He couldn't remember the <em>last </em>time a teacher called his name in class. Even kids would cut in line ahead of him and he’d simply shiver, taking a step back in response. </p><p>San could never understand people who wished for invisibility as a superpower.</p><p>There was nothing spectacular about being ignored. To have people walk past you without an inkling of acknowledgement for your existence. Instead, it was the feeling lingering feeling of being disregarded- the emptiness he feels with every passing person avoiding his eye contact.</p><p>It was ridiculous.</p><p>The buzzing dread beneath his skin craves for some- <em>any</em> attention, yet he would rather crawl into a deep hole forever than to face a crowd of faceless strangers, waiting to pick up on any humiliating mistake he’d make.</p><p>Maybe his invisibility was no fault but his own.</p><p>He readjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, taking deep breathes at the impending steps he knew he had to take. The noiseless chatter fleeting from the Home Economics room he was about to enter trembled through his bones. He feels the familiar nausea pooling near his chest, but he buckles forward.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t look at them. They’ll think you’re judging them. Just find an empty seat. But not right up front. They’ll think you’re pretentious. Oh, avoid the back. They’ll think you’re too cool for them. Stick to the walls. Stick to the walls and pretend you’re busy looking through your bag for something. Yeah.</em>
</p><p>The rest of the students continue to stream into class despite being past five minutes the scheduled class time. <em>Where was the damn teacher?</em> San had methodically timed his entrance into the class just as it would start so that he could avoid possibilities of any social interactions.</p><p>
  <em>But the damn teacher just couldn’t follow the script, could they?</em>
</p><p>At long last, a man in his mid-30’s strides in with hands in his pocket letting out a big yawn just as San had ruffled through his bag for the third time, looking for a non-existent object. The class settles in as the teacher, Mr Yang, spells <em>Cooking 101</em> across the board. Cheesy. San couldn’t help but glance over the class at the corner of his eye. </p><p>Every other seat in the class had been taken.</p><p>All except the one next to his.</p><p>He’s aware of the words falling out of his teachers mouth. He’s aware of the slides flashed across the screen detailing the module for the semester. But his mind was miles away from the there. He could only focus on the jitter of his fingers around his plain, navy blue pencil case. His mind scrambles for a moment.</p><p>
  <em>Was it his bag? Was it too bulky? Did it get in the way of the seat? Did he look weird rummaging through his bag earlier like a raccoon to a trash bin? Is that why no one would seat next to him?</em>
</p><p>“- so I hope you kids are ready for the group assignment,” Mr Yang claps a little to cheery, earning a few groans from the class just as San jumps a little from his seat. “So, get to it kids. Pick your partners carefully- you'll be stuck with them the next six months.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh fuck.</em>
</p><p>Who in the <em>right mind</em> would give them a group assignment in the <em>first class?</em> Mr Yang had already propped his feet up on his desk, arms folded and head lulling to sleep, but San swears he could hear the evil snigger bellowing from the man. It was as if his teacher had decided to be San’s worst enemy when he woke up that day.</p><p>He was only beginning to think of scenarios that involved obliterating his newfound enemy when a huffy student hops into the room, only stopping to catch his breath. San hadn’t realised his eyes were drawn to the new presence until the boy’s gaze landed on him after a quick look around. The new boy lit up at the sight of the empty seat and makes his way towards it. </p><p>
  <em>This can’t be happening. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who walks in almost 40 minutes into class? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why the fuck isn’t the teacher saying anything? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s coming this way oh fuck oh fuck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stop him! Anything!</em>
</p><p>“Hey, did I miss anything?” The boy smiles as he slides in the seat. Next to San. Almost a hair’s breadth away.</p><p>San willed for the words to come out, but his lips trembled embarrassingly so he kept them sealed. Thankfully, the boy didn’t wait for a response as he whipped out his phone, the clicking noise of the on-screen buttons being the only noise between them.</p><p>Is he for real? The kid comes late to class and he doesn’t even bother to catch up with the class? Apologise for his lateness? Maybe even explain why? </p><p>San makes a sneaky glance across the room. Every other student had already been paired and were already discussing on the oncoming project. Yet, here San was, not even knowing the name of his supposed partner. He’d seen him before, he’s sure. Maybe in passing, but San was never around people that much to know. </p><p>Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans without alerting the other, San had to concentrate on his breathing. He had to make sure it wasn’t embarrassingly loud like it always was around others, but it was hard for him to hear over the pounding of his heart in his chest.</p><p>He hated this.</p><p>He hated how out-of-control his body felt around others.</p><p>He wanted his body shut down and his mind to <em>shut up.</em> </p><p>“I’m Wooyoung. What’s your - woah. Are you alright?” The boy next to him asks, but San doesn’t hear any more after that because his ears were filling up with cotton. He claws at his chest, anything to clear the growing pain beneath it. He can’t hear the next question thrown his way so he shakes his head, flinging the tears pricking his eyes. Suddenly, he feels his hands being grabbed as he’s lifted up off his seat. </p><p>He’s being led somewhere and feels himself being sat down on cold, concrete pavement. The next time he opens his eyes, he's staring into two deep, dark ones.</p><p>And suddenly, he felt drawn into them. He focuses on them, then his gaze drops to the lips moving gently, then slowly in synchronisation with his breaths. </p><p>“That’s good. That’s it. Breathe for me. There you go,” he caresses his hair so softly that San almost melts at his touch. Slowly, he begins to feel sweet oxygen fill his lungs again as Wooyoung wipes the streaks of tears from his cheeks. “Feel better now?”</p><p>The two sat in silence for the remainder of the period. While the calmer of the two seemed happy to rest his back against the wall next to him with his eyes shut, San racked his brain for an explanation.</p><p>
  <em>Did this stranger just help him through a panic attack? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was this an act? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was someone going to jump out to praise Wooyoung for being a hero while calling San himself pathetic?</em>
</p><p>“I never got your name.”</p><p>The unexpected break of silence startles him for a second. “O-oh it’s uh.. San. I’m.. My name is San,” he whispers, praying to <em>god</em> his voice did not sound as raspy as he had heard it. He watches a slow grin form on Wooyoung’s face and San panics again. He feels the jitter run through his skin, until it comes to an electric stop when he feels a hand on his.</p><p>“I'm sorry you had to go through that. I don't know what's weighing you down and I know we've only just met, but I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about anything else when you’re with me,” Wooyoung glints and suddenly, that voice is the only sound San can hear in his chaotic mind.</p><p>“I will be here for you.”</p><hr/><p>San has a new goal when he steps into the school hallway.</p><p>Avoid Jung Wooyoung at all costs.</p><p>After his... episode yesterday, he went home searching the name on every one of his abandoned socials and found the face that matched. His eyes go wide when he finds that the boy was friends with <em>everyone</em>.</p><p>The boy... who had grounded him from his panic attack... was <em>the</em> popular person everyone hangs out with.</p><p>San can only bet wildfire rumours about the ‘it’ boy saving the red-faced freak already spreading around the campus. He braced himself for mocking whispers, pointed looks and nodes of laughter.</p><p>To his surprise, when he steps into the corridors, nothing had changed. People still treated him like a floating cloud. A shadow. Like yesterday never happened at all.</p><p>He guesses he should call it his luck because he’s able to get through his day without making any contact with others or worse, spiral into another panic attack. </p><p>
  <em>And he wouldn’t have Wooyoung there to help him.</em>
</p><p>Wait - what.</p><p>“San! San!” He hears the voice before he sees his face but he knows it’s his cue to leave. He tries to round a corner but hands grab his shoulders and turns him around before any chance of escape. He sees the familiar glimmer in his eyes but they quickly turn to worry when he notices the terror on San’s face, dropping his arms to his sides. “Oh, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“</p><p>“It’s okay,” San mutters, surprising himself but it suddenly feels satisfying when the dimples make a reappearance on Wooyoung’s face. </p><p>Being in Wooyoung’s presence again had invited the familiar sense of warmth San had had a taste of the day before.</p><p>And it was fucking <em>weird.</em></p><p>Maybe it was because Wooyoung had seen his vulnerability and San had unconsciously thought nothing could be worse than that but... it suddenly didn’t matter that Wooyoung was standing within his comfort zone. It suddenly didn’t matter that the two decided to have lunch outside together. It suddenly didn’t matter when Wooyoung rests his head against the crook of his neck. At first, he was frozen stiff by the sudden and <em>very close</em> contact, but after awhile, he grew to like the heaviness on his shoulder.</p><p>It was nice to have a different kind of weight on his shoulders.</p><p>“I’ve been reading up on it, you know? Social anxiety disorder?” San sucks his breath at his words. He knew the symptoms were dead obvious but he had always <em>prayed</em> that people wouldn’t notice. So much of his effort had gone into trying to create an air of nonchalance around him. He tried <em>so hard</em> to make himself appear <em>normal. </em></p><p>If Wooyoung noticed, does that mean that everyone else did too? Has he been making a fool of himself this whole time? Is that why people avoid him? Because he’s a<em> freak allergic to people?</em></p><p>“Hey, hey,” the soft voice drowns his thoughts again, this time, a pair of hands plant themselves on both sides of his cheeks. Once again, he melts into the darkness of those round eyes. “You’re here with me now. I know you can’t control them and it’s hard, what you’re going through, but I’m here to help. Let's be friends.”</p><p>San blinked, unsure of what he's hearing was actually <em>true. </em>It was already surreal to him that anyone- <em>Jung Wooyoung</em> for that matter- was there with him, staring at him like San was <em>valuable </em>in his eyes. To hear that Wooyoung wanted to help him control his thoughts and teach him some normalcy? That he was offering <em>friendship</em>- something that San had been craving for for <em>so long? </em></p><p>And San had no doubt that Wooyoung was a man of his words. It was a gut feeling mixed with the genuine, soft gaze that Wooyoung was sending him that convinced him.</p><p>So, San does something he hasn’t done in a while. </p><p>He trusts something- <em>someone</em>- other than his thoughts.</p><p>And, that’s how he found himself in a “Choi San’s flowery road to recovery! By Jung Wooyoung :D”  roadmap.</p><p>At first, they were simple things (though in San’s chaotic brain seemed like a death trap) like saying hello to one other classmate, first in one class, then all of his classes. To which he’d turn around and be rewarded with Wooyoung’s idiotic smile and two excited thumbs up. But that was enough to persuade him to take the next step.</p><p>Putting up his hand in class to ask a question as the next step was one that San’s overbearing heart would back out of at the last second, but one look at Wooyoung’s squinting eyes and his arm shot through the air. It had felt like a milestone when he offered his thoughts to the class, despite how shaky his voice seemed to be. It felt better when he didn't even question himself on what he'd said because Wooyoung's warm smile stopped those thoughts from ever crossing his mind.</p><p>When he felt brave enough, Wooyoung even had him confront one of those queue cutters. Although he’s sure that his meekly request to the kid to start lining from the back did nothing to deter him and it was really Wooyoung’s glare that threw the kid off, the shorter boy jumped in pride and gave San a tight hug for his bravery. Even San felt the need to compliment himself, patting his heart in pride.</p><p>He had even met Yeosang, Wooyoung’s roommate, who’s first question to San was “why would you befriend this idiot.” They had spent the afternoon in their dorm, playing Uno with San attempting to stop Wooyoung from pouncing on Yeosang for cheating. When Wooyoung stomped off after being a sore loser and left San gasping for breath from laughing so much, he caught a glimpse of Yeosang smiling at him. Laughter dying down immediately, he asked him if he did anything wrong. Yeosang only shook his head, the smile still etched on his face. "Nothing. I just hope you know that you're always welcomed here. And I'd let Satan drag me to hell before I let Wooyoung hear me say this, but I'm glad he became friends with you."</p><p>It’s not that San’s fear of social interactions had magically gone away. He still trembles to his bones and clutches his erratic heart at the rush of his poisoned mind, but it was easier to cope than before. It was easier when he has a pair of magnetic eyes to ground him. It was easier when he has a chest to lean on, a heart beat to sync to and cool air fanning his feverish head. </p><p>It was easier because Wooyoung was there for him. </p><p>Which is why he’d agreed to anything the boy would suggest.</p><p>Even the craziest of suggestions.</p><p>Wooyoung’s presence in his single dorm room had become a natural occurrence. The first time he decided to come over, it was the first time San had even <em>brought</em> a friend to his dorm, so safe to say, he scrubbed the floors, aired the sheets and cleaned his refrigerator. He knew Wooyoung didn’t care if his room had been ravaged by a hurricane, but being overly cautious was a trait he couldn’t shake off. San was also delightedly amused when the boy decided to raid his fridge and made use of the pots that were hung just for show, whipping up dish after dish that San tasted a piece of home in every one of them. </p><p>(“I’m a Michelin chef! Gordon Ramsay is quaking!” Wooyoung prides every time he turned the stove on. San can only be thankful they were partners in Cooking 101.)</p><p>That day, he’d cooked one of San’s favourite dishes, <em>ganjanggejang</em>, and he just <em>knew</em> something was up. </p><p>Wooyoung, in a sense, would sometimes act like a child, doing good things in exchange for something he wanted and needed permission to get. For San, he would only cook dishes he loved the most (because anything Wooyoung cooked, he was a goner for) when he wanted to suggest a new step forward.</p><p>“So… there’s this party Yeosang’s boyfriend is throwing, do you want to come?- B-But only if you’re comfortable, though- You don’t have to…” </p><p>On any other occasion, he would blatantly reject. He would not even <em>begin</em> to entertain the idea.</p><p>He’s been to parties before, sure, but sweaty bodies rubbing against him in a suffocating room wasn’t really his cup of tea.</p><p>In fact, it seemed like poison to him.</p><p>But that was before... Wooyoung. Back when he would <em>crumble</em> at the thought of a social gathering, he didn't have the luxury of having a friend to rely on when he felt like dissolving into the ground. </p><p>But he had Wooyoung now.</p><p>He can do it.</p><p>He can do it because Wooyoung believes he can do it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay! The first chapter is up!</p><p>I'm actually quite excited for this story. It's short but I hope it brightens up at least some part of your day. </p><p>The next chapter will be up really soon!</p><p>Please leave comments about anything! I get excited when reading comments and it motivates me to write faster. Leave kudos if you like what you read too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sometimes ghosts get scared too</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wooyoung brings San to the party.</p><p>It all goes well until San is forced to detach himself from the spot he personally claimed next to Wooyoung, forcing him to stand his own ground.</p><p>But when he comes across some unassuming chocolate delicacies, he hadn't expected just how loose he could be at a party.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The second chapter is up! </p><p>I had fun writing this chapter because we get to see the two sides of San. (hehe.)</p><p>The party scene was what I really wanted to write about when I started writing this story so enjoy!</p><p>TW// ANXIETY</p><p>It's not so bad but still, just be warned.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Choi San is a coward.</p><p>He would <em>gladly</em> admit that- <em>hell</em>, have it written across his forehead with a thick Sharpie.</p><p><em>Anything</em> to get him away from the apartment door he was facing.</p><p>The loud music booming from beyond the wooden frame was competing fiercely with the pounding of his heart against his ribs. He could hear the noisy chatter that was only moments away from crashing against his eardrums. At any given moment, the noisy chatter could just as quickly turn directed to him. And San was so, <em>so </em>afraid of that.</p><p>He was only one second away from turning his back when he feels the slide of a hand in his, comfortingly rubbing circles behind them.</p><p>He turns his head to find Wooyoung staring deeply, eyes showing a hint of concern but the confidence and belief he held in them overpowering. </p><p>Wooyoung always had a way of feeding him confidence.</p><p>He had spent the past few days since Wooyoung had told him about the party berating over what clothes he should wear, how should he act, what he should say if people were to talk to him (and maybe how fast he could convince Wooyoung on when they could leave the party). He had also done his research, reviewing over a hundred videos on youtube on outfit and makeup looks that would be appropriate for the party. Only when Wooyoung had come to pick him up from his dorm that evening did all his worries evaporate.</p><p>“Are you ready to- WOAH. Well, hot fucking damn, Choi San,” Wooyoung cried, nearly tripping over his own foot when he saw San. To be fair, Wooyoung only needed to look in the mirror for the same reaction, but San kept the thought to himself, only offering a small chuckle and a smack to his friend's bicep.</p><p>Having Wooyoung there beside him as he's about to face another obstacle in his life was more than enough.</p><p>When they step inside, though, the colour saps from his face.</p><p>It had been everything San had feared. </p><p>Sometimes, he forgets how popular Wooyoung is because of how much time he spends with San alone.</p><p>But the people packed like sardines reminds him that Wooyoung is a <em>popular person</em> who gets invited to <em>popular parties</em> with <em>other popular people</em>.</p><p>The sensations freeze like ice in his veins as sweat gather in pools against his forehead. His legs feel like jelly when a couple of guys whiz past them, shouting and spilling beer in their path. He hadn’t even realised his breathing got erratic until Wooyoung thumbs the back of his hand in circles, bringing him back to his senses. </p><p>He can see the movements of Wooyoung’s lips as he mouths ‘are you okay?’ A tinge of worry creased into his brows and those alluring pools of his eyes registers in San’s brain but he knows only to nod his head. </p><p>
  <em>If Wooyoung is here, then he’ll be alright.</em>
</p><p>They meet with Yeosang, who had looked spectacular in a sparkly, pink jacket and a fresh dye of blonde. Wooyoung explains with an eye-roll that “it’s because he wants people to know what a trophy Song Mingi’s boyfriend is.” He earns a hard slap against his back that sends him flying forward but he wasn’t further from the truth.</p><p>San had had a restless sleep the night before. Hell, he wouldn’t call it so much as a <em>nap</em>. The dark circles hidden under his makeup was a testament to that. He imagined the scenarios that could play out and constructed responses to them if he ever needed them. He was a slave to the fears that muddled his thoughts. He had worries about how people may judge his looks for trying to fit in. Worries about how he would make Wooyoung look by standing next to him. Worries about how he would be better off out of the picture. </p><p>But contrary to the anxieties he had the night before, it had surprisingly been quite... the enjoyable evening. And, dare San even say it, <em>fun</em>.</p><p>He had enjoyed watching Mingi <em>attempt</em> to sing through karaoke music in a... unique vocal tune. Then thoroughly enjoyed watching Yeosang trying to duct tape his mouth which he justifies was “a necessary reinforcement.” He even let himself release a whisper of a laugh at the two, a clear sign that he’d allowed himself to let loose, even though only by so much. It was fun just sitting next to Wooyoung, soft drinks in their hands as the louder boy cracks up, throwing himself onto San’s lap in fits of laughter.</p><p>It was fine because San was attached to Wooyoung by the hip the entire night - until he wasn’t. </p><p>When a guy pops in and buddy hugs Wooyoung, dragging him away to a beer pong table. San catches the worry and apology in his eyes, only to shake his head quickly, signalling to him that it was fine.</p><p>Only, it <em>wasn’t fine.</em></p><p>Wooyoung’s absence was greatly felt as the anxiety that had been docile at bay was creeping up to him.</p><p>He stood alone by the wall, unconsciously taking tentative steps to blend into it. He could join and watch Wooyoung play beer pong but decides against it after seeing the crowd that had formed and the sight of Wooyoung lost in the clash of bodies. He supposed he could find Yeosang and Mingi (he’d grown comfortable with their obnoxiously loud presence whenever he came over to play Uno at Wooyoung and Yeosang's dorm) but they had long gone into the depths of the apartment after Yeosang spewed something about loving chicken more than his boyfriend- and the darkened expression flat clear on <em>said</em> <em>boyfriend’s</em> face. </p><p>The restlessness in his legs drives him off the wall. He hid his hands in the pockets of his oversized bomber jacket and shook his bangs in their place to shield his eyes, worrying someone would catch the shaken anxiousness he held in them. The taunting voices in his head demands him to find something that’ll make him look busy, so he heads towards the kitchen in strides he hoped didn't look too hurried. When he gets there, he could almost <em>kiss</em> the ground to find the room vacant of people, letting himself breathe in the momentary solace. He leans against the counter where the food lay, stretching the stiffness in his back from the locks he caged himself in. </p><p>San weighed his options- to leave the party and slip into the comfortable isolation that is his dorm... or stay and wait for Wooyoung to come find him.</p><p>Although the first option had seemed <em>so</em> tempting, he <em>did</em> promise Wooyoung he would follow through the “flowery road” steps that the boy planned for him and stay at the party. </p><p>So he has to stay. Because Wooyoung <em>believes</em> he can.</p><p>The low rumble of his stomach distracts him from his thoughts and it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t had a bite since they arrived. He opted for the brownies that sat within his reach and at the first bite, he almost melts at the taste. It had a velvety texture and tasted of coffee and chocolate, sprinkled with m&amp;m’s in its layers. But there was something else in the mix that had San going back for another slice.</p><p>Then another.</p><p>Then the entire batch.</p><p>And then, he felt <em>floaty</em>.</p><p>It was like something had unlocked in his chest and tossed him into the sky so that he could soar above the clouds. He giggles, wondering how food so good could make him feel so… <em>so good.</em></p><p>Not wanting to waste a single taste of the sticky paste, he licks of the remnants of the last brownie on his fingers when someone walks in. Their eyes locked instantly and San couldn’t control the smile that broke on his face. He felt so giddy.</p><p>“We need another batch of those. Fuck, tell me when they’ve got another batch of those,” he snickers at the unrecognisable face, grabbing the plastic cup from the strangers hands, downing it before vacating the room, not even registering the shock on their face.</p><p>The liquid burns down his throat and he hates it, so he throws the cup to the ground. Suddenly, the thumping bass of the music shivers through his bones and his body ached for movement. Leading himself to the congested dance floor, his limbs moves along to the rhythm. San hadn’t been aware of the control over his body he had possessed but he feels himself slide to the floor, then sprang up almost immediately, rolling his hips to the music. He hears a cacophony of hoots and cheers before he’s joined by another body, <em>dangerously close</em> to his.</p><p>But at that moment, he didn’t care.</p><p>His mind was inviting and even <em>daring</em> enough to allow the skin against skin contact. He smirks daringly, pulling the girl’s body closer as they synchronised their movements, earning cheers <em>even louder</em> than the music.</p><p>And San had never felt so liberated- so <em>alive.</em></p><p>It was like the council of overthinking had packed their bags and left. His mind was clearer than it had ever been. For once, the adrenaline shooting through his blood wasn’t that of anxiety, but of <em>excitement</em>. For once, he was finally having a taste of <em>euphoria</em> that he’d been missing his whole life. </p><p>He licks his lips, locking his forehead against the girl's. His was intense- provocative almost that it had sent a shiver down her spine. It was the first time San had seen someone so <em>affected</em> by him. He almost felt drunk on power.</p><p>“San?” </p><p>San shoots his head at the voice, face breaking into a baked smile when his eyes meet the person he came to the party with. He waves excitedly, like a child. "Woo! It's me! San!"</p><p>The confusion and concern etched into Wooyoung’s face goes ignored as San nudges the girl off him and pulled Wooyoung onto the dance floor. He’s dancing in a gleeful bliss while Wooyoung continued to study him with focused eyes, but San didn't care at all. Wooyoung's eyes widened when the realisation dawns on him.</p><p>“Oh my god, you’re high.”</p><p>San threw his head back in laughter like he’d just been told a hilarious joke. The hysteria doesn’t die down and he leans against Wooyoung’s shoulder, hand wrapped around his neck as he releases the fits of laughter.</p><p>“Oh my god, it was the brownies wasn’t it? Hyunjin, that fucker. He's always bringing those brownies to parties. Oh god, how many did you eat?”</p><p>He leans in, stopping himself right next to his ear and Wooyoung visibly stiffens.</p><p>“Just one,” he whispers before sniggering, but the disbelief on Wooyoung’s face makes him say, “batch. Just one batch.”</p><p>When he sees the horrified expression on the boy’s face, San bursts into another fit of laughter, long enough to have tears prick his eyes as he’s being led through the teetering crowd and into fresh air. </p><p>It was ironic that the two times Wooyoung had led him away, one was with San facing a panic attack and now he was incredibly <em>high.</em></p><p>Wooyoung guides him to sit before settling in the spot next to him. At first, the adrenaline rush had still felt electrifying beneath his skin, so he leapt up from his seat to dance in bursts of energy. But after most of his energy had been spent, he slouched against the other, letting the last of the drugs take effect. San must have been smiling a damn lot because his jaw was starting to ache, but he throws Wooyoung another lazy grin. </p><p>“Is this what normal feels like?”</p><p>He must have caught Wooyoung off guard with his question from his startled jerk that eroded into stiffness. The smaller boy sighs, dropping his gaze to the ground beneath them as he glides a hand through his hair. When Wooyoung doesn’t say anything, San puffed his cheeks then glides a tongue over his lips before adding, “whoever made those brownies, I’m gonna need their number because I’m gonna need a whole lot-“</p><p>“<em>Dont</em>.” The aggressiveness in his tone now caught San off guard. Wooyoung’s hard, stony stare with the crease of his brows cages his attention and he could only lock himself in place at the tension. Seeing San drawback in response, he sighs. Something shifts in his chest at the sound of Wooyoung's exasperated exhale and he starts to wonder if it was because he regretted.</p><p>Regretted leaving San alone at the party.</p><p>Regret that he’d let San wander on his own.</p><p>Regret that he’d <em>even brought him</em> to the party.</p><p>“Those brownies had coke in them. Hyunjin’s stupid ass likes to mess people up at every party he goes to. Don’t ever eat them again. In fact, don’t ever take drugs. Drugs are bad for you. Take it from me. My brother was high all the time and it sucked. <em>He sucked.</em> I don’t want you to see the same thing happen to you.” </p><p>San had grown accustomed to Wooyoung’s eyes and how they made him feel. He saw stars in them. Like a celestial galaxy that pulled him closer to home. But his eyes reflected something else this time. Something that resembled a distant pain and constant worry. Something that San wasn’t used to seeing in Wooyoung, but was all too familiar with in himself.</p><p>“It’s my fault, isn’t it? My brains a fucked up mess and I’ll never be normal.” </p><p>He knows it in his bones. He knows it from the tremble of his fingers to the sweating bullets down his face. He knows it with every pugnacious thought in his brain. </p><p>
  <em>He could never be fixed.</em>
</p><p>Wooyoung’s soft hands find their way to cup his cheeks. Softly but with a little pressure, he forces San to meet his eyes again. This time, they were tinged with assertion - the same determination he’d seen when they first met. When Wooyoung was trying to calm him down from his panic attack.</p><p>“It is <em>not</em> your fault. Your thoughts are <em>not</em> something you can control. Choi San, you are more than your anxiety and the past few weeks with you had shown me just that. <em>You are a fucking beautiful person</em>.”</p><p>Wooyoung stares at him, full of fiery passion like he’d been holding on to those words for a long time. San held his breath with no thoughts in his mind.</p><p>“You’ve got this angelic smile when you’re feeding stray animals when we go for walks. You sing to your plants when you water them in the morning. <em>Hell</em>, you still treat shiber better than you treat me sometimes because you've known him longer than you've known me.“</p><p>The prettiest smile stole his lips as San feels his cheeks warm up. Not like the usual kind of embarrassment, where he’d rather roll over and keel. But the kind of embarrassment that he never knew Wooyoung would pick up on his quirks, some he hadn’t even noticed before.</p><p>But he also felt more than that.</p><p>He felt... like Wooyoung had been watching him- had <em>seen </em>him and decided he was this person that had held so much <em>value.</em></p><p>“What the fuck is normal anyway? Whatever is in your head <em>can’t</em> destroy the beautiful human being that you are, Sannie. I won’t let it."</p><p>Suddenly, it felt like a flower had bloomed in his chest. Wooyoung's voice was so gentle, but he had spoken with so much conviction- so much <em>truth </em>that San couldn't help but believe him.</p><p>Wooyoung was never one to lie to him. Everything he had promised San since their first meeting, he delivered. With every smile he gave, every reassurance he spoke, every look he held... San knew for a long time now that he was falling <em>dangerously</em> for his friend. </p><p>It scared him to <em>death, </em>but in that moment, and he didn't know whether it was the drugs he consumed that were still working their effects, but San felt <em>bold</em>.</p><p>He gaze flutters to the lips that bespoke of him so well that the noise from the party and the noise in his head was far <em>far </em>away from his conscience.</p><p>“Can you... kiss me?”</p><p>The rounded eyes he’d been staring into peeled back in surprise, but San’s eyes never wavered. If Wooyoung was looking for a hint of a joke or any evidence of him still riding from the high of cocaine, San didn’t give him any. Instead, he’d let his eyes convince the other of how sure he was, despite the increasing jitters prancing on his skin and the deafening thumping of his heart.</p><p>Then, their lips collided.</p><p>At first, it was merely a peck. Wooyoung pulled back to make sure he hadn’t led the other into a meltdown. But when San only stared back with a lovey daze, he crashed their lips together again, this time, with more purpose. The warmth of his lips were so gentle, caressing against his that he couldn't stop the heat from reaching his cheeks.</p><p>Those coke brownies may had San coming back for more, but Wooyoung’s lips were more addictive than any drug he could’ve consumed.</p><p>With Wooyoung’s hands holding his shoulders and lips locking with his, San had never felt so... <em>at peace</em>.</p><p><em>Click</em>.</p><p>The sudden snap and flash of light that encased them had Wooyoung splitting the two apart. San had merely caught a glance at the guy behind the phone that was pointed towards them when he felt the forceful shove of his shoulders. </p><p>“Oh, come on now, Woo! Don’t let me disturb you. Continue,” the man chuckles distastefully, swaying a plastic cup in their direction as he positions his phone camera. </p><p>“Ugh, Hyunjin. You totally ruined the mood. We could’ve seen more if you’d just stayed the fuck back,” another voice - though a girl and a guy, emerge from the wall they’d been hiding behind, joining him. They leaned on their sides, hands against hips as they stared at the two deers caught in the headlights with a cunning smirk. </p><p>“So, this the charity case you’ve been working with the past few weeks, huh, Woo?” The girl scoffs, taking a long drag from the roll between her fingers. “Does it end when you two, like, get into bed together or something?”</p><p>“Hey hottie. Saw you on the dance floor. If you’re done with Woo, how about you give me a turn, eh?”</p><p>San felt his stomach churn. The three pairs of eyes that were fixated on his, <em>challenging him</em>, had called the crying fear back where it belonged. His blood turned icy cold under the stare of the three as his back nearly gives out under the pressure.</p><p>“Shut the <em>fuck</em> up,” Wooyoung sneers with a glare that sent San shiver down his spines. His knuckles turned white, trembling with so much vigour. He’d never seen that look in his eyes before. He’d seen them angry, but never so <em>dangerous</em>. “Don't you fucking <em>dare</em> say his name like that. He doesn’t belong in your filthy mouths. He doesn’t even belong here!”</p><p>
  <em>Charity case.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A whore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t belong here.</em>
</p><p>Oh. <em>Oh</em>.</p><p>The situation finally registers in his brain. The situation he had <em>so desperately</em> wanted to avoid. The situation being the reason the voices in his head had a purpose.</p><p>He feels himself shrink under the mocking stares of the three strangers before him, hearing the blood rush to his ears. The room seemed to darken as darkness crept the edge of his vision. At the rapidly increasing shortness of his breath, San clutches the searing pain seizing his chest like he was experiencing <em>death</em> itself.</p><p>He needed to get the <em>fuck</em> out of there.</p><p>"I-I'm sorry. I'm s-so s-s-sorry."</p><p>He couldn't afford to have a panic attack in a crowd of people with status. </p><p>People with <em>reputation</em>. </p><p>People <em>even Wooyoung</em> thought he didn’t have a valuable place with.</p><p>So, through blurry hot tears and trembling shoulders, he hurried himself through the crowd, lungs burning and throat so constricting, it felt like sandpaper. The contact of skin against his burnt like wildfire. But he doesn’t stop for a minute. Not even when he nearly stumbles over the nothing. Not even when Wooyoung was on his tail, calling after him.</p><p>It wasn’t until the cool air beats against his flaming cheeks did he feel a tug backwards, head crashing into a chest and locked into place by a pair of arms wrapping around the back of his hair. Shoulders shaking violently, he let the hot tears that had been pooling his eyes finally fall free, soaking the shirt Wooyoung had so fashionably dressed in. A hand slips to caress his back in smooth motions and it does wonders for the tremors down his spine. It had been minutes before San had the energy to pull away from the hold, sobs no longer escaping his lips, the tightness in his chest no longer there. Instead, a strange numbness sat in it’s place as his weary, bloodshot eyes struggle to meet Wooyoung’s.</p><p>Those galaxy eyes were calling to him. <em>Begging for him to come home to him.</em></p><p>But the council in his head was back.</p><p>They were mocking him. Cackling ridiculously at him for being <em>so stupid.</em></p><p>And this time, San would listen.</p><p>They were right to to mock him, criticise him, drag him down so he wouldn't have had such a big head thinking he could be a part of something that was <em>not</em> for him. </p><p>Because how <em>dare</em> he’d ever thought he could be like everyone else.</p><p>How <em>dare</em> could he think he could ever be normal.</p><p>How <em>dare</em> he thought that he could ever be part of Jung Wooyoung’s life.</p><p>San removes the heavy hands off his shoulders, face devoid of any emotion- a stark contrast to the guilt-ridden and incessant concern written on Wooyoung’s face. The faintest of smile struggles to place itself on his lips but the lack of soul in his eyes destroy any chances of it looking believable. As nausea burnt his throat, he cleared his trachea for an airway that would give him enough strength to speak. When he does, the voice that slips out just sounds so... <em>so fragile.</em></p><p>“Thank you… for everything you’ve done for me. But… you don’t have to do them anymore.”</p><p>He doesn’t allow himself to see the glistening layer of panic in Wooyoung’s eyes, nor does he wait to digest the incoherent words that fall from his mouth. </p><p>He was done hearing the sweet words that never matched him. That could describe a person he could only ever hope of being.</p><p>He simply turns his back on Wooyoung and leaves.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...</p><p>I'M SORRY.</p><p>I have so much love for Woosan but even my characters have to go through trials and tribulations right (*′☉.̫☉)</p><p>Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! It was really fun to write.</p><p>I'm hoping to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.</p><p>In the meantime, please leave comments and kudos! It really helps.</p><p>See you in the next chapter~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Beneath the ghost's veil, there is a human living in fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>San hadn't made so much as an appearance since the night he walked away at the party.</p><p>Wooyoung is worried sick.</p><p>There was a lot of things he had thought about.</p><p>Things Wooyoung needed San to believe.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>THIRD CHAPTER YAY!!</p><p>Only one more chapter after this but I'm really excited to post them as soon as I can!</p><p>I put a lot of thought into this chapter so please enjoy~</p><p>Leave comments and kudos if you can! It really really puts a stupid smile on my face that makes me want to write faster.</p><p>TW// MENTAL ILLNESS</p><p>As always, read with caution...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wooyoung was losing his <em>fucking </em>mind.</p><p>He hadn't seen so much as a <em>glimpse</em> of San or any sign that he was even alive.</p><p>San had become a constant presence by his side in the past few weeks. Although it was more out of curiosity and concern when he’d first approach the other in the earlier weeks, the more time spent he with San, the more comfortable San had felt around him, the more layers he’d began to shed. Wooyoung was beginning to see the human beneath. </p><p>And San was a one <em>breathtaking</em> human being. </p><p>Under the seemingly impenetrable wall between his head and his heart, there was a person who enjoyed the simplest things in life.</p><p>When Wooyoung turned up the music on his laptop while writing his essay, he couldn’t stop the adoring grin on his face when he looked up to watch San swaying to the rhythm as he swept the floor of his dorm room, completely oblivious to the star-studded eyes watching him. He was quickly enamoured by how San would slip into <em>aegyo </em>mode when he wanted Wooyoung to do something (which, ofcourse, Wooyoung would always do in a heartbeat the second he saw those pouty lips). It had been the time when he had Yeosang and Mingi over for Uno and San had physically <em>whined</em> to him about the two cheating that Wooyoung realised.</p><p>He was <em>fa</em><em>llling hard</em> for him.</p><p>It was a realisation that kept him up for several nights. At first, it was fear that trapped his heart, falling for a precious friend with a fragile mind. He was afraid of doing something wrong and breaking everything San had worked so hard for.</p><p>But San glowed differently these days. The creases that were folded in constant worry were beginning to fade. His face was brighter, happier, more <em>carefree</em>.</p><p>But Wooyoung knew better than to let his feelings for San burden his already heavy shoulders, so there was nothing he could do than to shove those feelings in a secret safe within his heart.</p><p>He would do anything to protect San.</p><p>Which was why the lack of San's presence was driving Wooyoung <em>up the wall</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you… for everything you’ve done for me. But… you don’t have to do them anymore.”</em>
</p><p>There was so much <em>pain</em> in that sentence that it had physically broke Wooyoung apart.</p><p>He knew he shouldn’t have brought him to the party. When Mingi had told him to invite San, he said that it was going to be a <em>small</em> gathering with people they knew. He didn’t tell him that the <em>entire</em> population of the student body had heard “Mingi” and “party” and “throwing” in the same sentence and decided to invite themselves. The people who flocked around him were assholes- more than Wooyoung would give them credit for. They ran their mouths like a machine. Like a dirty toilet bowl kind of machine. It was usually ‘say first, think later’ that had Wooyoung gutting himself for bringing <em>San</em> to such a toxic environment.</p><p>But it was too late. The damage had already been done.</p><p>When morning came the next day, Wooyoung was already facing the door to San’s dorm room. He’d knocked for ages, nimbly at first, then desperately enough to have neighbouring tenants chase him off. He’d come back with a packed meal that Wooyoung had whipped up himself, knocking the door with wary glances and the pleading tone of his voice calling out San’s name. When there was still no answer, he left the warm container on the floor, along with his bleeding heart. When he came back the next day, a brand new container in his hands, there was a sharp pain in his chest when the meal he’d left before remained untouched. It was almost routinely that he would come with a freshly cooked meal, knock and call out softly for 30 minutes, then leave with the cold meal he’d left from his previous visit with a stinging pain in his chest.</p><p>Was San ignoring him? What did he mean Wooyoung “didn’t have to do them anymore”? What was going on between the door that shield Wooyoung from the person he'd give his <em>heart and soul to?</em></p><p><em>“Oh my god, you whiny bitch,”</em> Yeosang sighs, exasperated, like he’d heard the worries spilling from Wooyoung’s mouth a hundred times. Which he was. “You’re not going to get any answers asking <em>me</em>. Tell that to the person actually <em>involved</em> in your rant.“</p><p>Even though his voice was coursed with annoyance, there was a layer of deep concern for his roommate who’s having his heart thawed every time he comes home with sagged shoulder, an uneaten container in his hand and unshed tears in his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what the other was going through. He didn’t have the heart to imagine spending every waking moment of his day desperately searching for some kind of response if Mingi were suddenly to go AWOL on him. He readjusts himself on his boyfriend’s thigh at the thought, finding comfort in the warmth that his presence permeated and reminding himself how lucky he was that Mingi was there.</p><p>“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly break into his dorm…” Wooyoung trails off, but he’d made a mistake of locking his gaze on the two pairs of eyes that were fixated on him intently. The knowing look on their faces forces his jaw to unhinge. “You guys can’t be serious. We’re talking about a <em>criminal offence</em> here!”</p><p>“Actually, it’s not an offence if you have reason to believe the occupant’s life is in danger,” Mingi raises, flipping the textbook in his hand shut and putting it aside. “It’s been like what? Three days since we last heard from him? I’m kinda worried. Especially when you know… what San’s like.”</p><p>Wooyoung had no reason to doubt him. Mingi was studying medicine which had Wooyoung automatically putting him on a high pedestal and believing every word he had to say on anything related to health. Yeosang, on the other hand, was studying psychology. The both of them had been Wooyoung’s tutor, teaching him about everything they knew that had to do with San’s social anxiety. They taught him what he could do in case of a panic attack, helped him create the step ladder that would gradually expose San to face his fears and briefed him on the behaviours and thoughts San would have that he should look out for.</p><p>They had been Wooyoung’s rosetta stone for everything San was going through and how he could help him.</p><p>Suddenly, breaking into his dorm room didn’t seem such a big deal.</p><p>“Mingi, the bobby pins.” Yeosang held his hand out as he examined the lock on his knee. When Mingi caught the amused look in his eyes, he’d only tell Wooyoung not to ask as he slid two bobby pins into Yeosang’s palm. If Wooyoung hadn’t felt the overbearing weight of the heavy container he’d left earlier in his arms, he might’ve chuckled a retort. </p><p>At the sound of a click and Yeosang’s <em>assa!</em> , the door gave way into the familiar dorm room that Wooyoung hadn’t been in for what seemed like ages, given that he was almost <em>always</em> there before. The living room, illuminated only by the sunlight filtering through the blinds, had appeared bare and empty. It seemed un-lived, save for the half eaten dry bread on the kitchen counter and a cup of ramen that had been opened, but not made, as if the person making it changed their mind at the last second and had chosen to abandon it instead. The sink was still cluttered with dishes Wooyoung recognised he had put away the night of the party.</p><p>“Guys! In here!”</p><p>Wooyoung wasted no time in discarding the container on the counter and taking quick steps into San’s bedroom where Mingi had entered. He freezes, though, the second his eyes land on the body entangled within the sheets, unmoving.</p><p>“S-San ah!” He intended to shout but came out as a pathetic whimper. He blinked a moment and he was already there by the bedside, trying to shake San out of his immobile and unconscious state. “Sannie. Wake up for me, baby. Please.”</p><p>It takes a while for him to register how the pillows had been soaked with the sweat that <em>bathed</em> San’s face, the violent shivers that trembled through his body and the unsteady, raspy breaths he was taking. He still showed no sign of response.</p><p>“Shit, he’s <em>burning,</em>“ Wooyoung cries when he reaches for San’s forehead, only to retract just as quickly. “Shit- fuck- shit. M-Mingi, what d-do I do? How do I- What do I do?”</p><p>The hot tears were already racing down his cheeks with no control. He tries to wipe them away in between his whimpers and desperately shaking San into consciousness. </p><p>Mingi was already on the other side of the bed, leaning over to lift an eyelid with the torchlight on his phone on his other hand. He was mouthing words Wooyoung couldn’t hear over the pounding of his heart, but he’d seen Yeosang whip his phone out, dialling briefly before pressing it to his ear. </p><p>Wooyoung felt so <em>helpless</em>.</p><p>He watches as the life of the person he loves was slipping through his fingers and he couldn't do<em> a thing.</em> </p><hr/><p>The next time Wooyoung cracks an eye open, he catches a glimpse of slender fingers hovering centimetres from his face, before it was withdrawn quickly. But Wooyoung was faster, catching the spaces between those fingers, encasing them with his other hand and clasping them close to his chest. He was careful, though, not wanting to mess the tangle of tubes that poked through the back of San’s hand.</p><p>He quickly readjusts his seat closer to the gurney, stretching the sleep from his back but not once breaking San’s wide-eyed stare. Unlike his condition hours earlier, the colour had returned to San’s face again. His bangs no longer plastered to his forehead like seaweed. Instead, it had been soft enough for Wooyoung to ruffle and push away from his eyes. </p><p>“How long have you been awake?” He untangles his fingers from San’s to rub his dry face, trying to appear more awake than he may seem, but gap of his fingers immediately find themselves within the hold of the limp hand in front of him once again. </p><p>There was no answer. Instead, San continued to stare blankly at him, but Wooyoung could almost hear the gears churning in his head. He drew circles at the back of the hand in his hold, attempting to dissolve the silence that sat between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, rather there more was at work in their heads than they would allow to fill the space.</p><p>“We - Yeosang, Mingi and I- we found you unconscious in your room,” he swallows thickly, desperate to ignore the image of San’s earlier state blaring in his mind. It was partly the reason he rambles on, but also partly due to the fear that if he’d stop talking then, San would lash out at him for breaking into his room.</p><p>“Yeosang called the ambulance and here we are. The doctor said you were severely dehydrated and you were hollow to your bones because you haven’t been eating. Okay, maybe I was a little dramatic about the bones thing- but shit, Sannie. Why the <em>hell</em> weren’t you taking care of yourself? Actually, why haven’t you been answering me? I came over everyday and-“</p><p>“Why are you here?”</p><p>His eyes snapped up incredulously at the question. San rolled his lips, his eyebrows turned downwards as if he was cursing himself for asking. Wooyoung didn’t mind the question. It had simply caught him off guard after days of empty responses whenever he went to see him. However, the creases that began to form on his forehead told Wooyoung how much San antagonised himself for being curious.</p><p>Wooyoung had seen this coming. As he waited for San to regain consciousness after being admitted earlier, Yeosang had told him that San would have his doubts about the whole situation. Especially about where they were at with their relationship after the night of the party. What sent a pang of hurt through his chest, though, was that San could’ve pinned the entire stream of events on himself. </p><p>As if the entire situation was his fault. </p><p>As if he was the bad guy.</p><p>“I am here...” he sucks in a breath, carefully forming what he hoped were the right words in his head, “the same reason I’ve been by your side this whole time. I’m your <em>friend</em>, San. I’m not your enemy. I’m not here to criticise you or judge you. I’m here because I like being your friend and friends help each other out when they’re troubled. When there’s a problem, we’ll work it out together because that’s what friends do.”</p><p>He was telling the truth. As much as his feelings for San grew romantically, he appreciated and revelled in the fact that they were friends. They were close enough for Wooyoung to burst into his dorm uninvited, sleep on the same bed after a full day of studying and was far too lazy to return to his own room. He enjoyed- he <em>cherished</em> the fact that San grew comfortable around him enough to reveal the genuine, kind-hearted and loveable person he was. </p><p>He didn’t want to sound presumptuous but he almost felt <em>special</em> for being one of the few people who San allowed to be himself around.</p><p>But his feelings couldn’t match the harsh criticism San had for himself. No matter how many times Wooyoung would assure him, there was always hesitance in his actions - always a step back from another touch or another word. </p><p>And Wooyoung recognised that hesitance in San’s face right then.</p><p>“I-I… I’m sorry,” his eyes flitted to the empty space in front of him, not wanting to meet Wooyoung’s somber ones. “For- that I- I shouldn’t have burdened you like that.”</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry for being a burden.</em>
</p><p>Despite the short time they had known each other, Wooyoung had learnt to see through the cracks of the words San never said. He came to realise that San had a hard time expressing what he meant- what he <em>truly felt</em>, so Wooyoung had learnt to read between the lines. In the way San trembled, eyes downcast as a million emotions fill the spaces on his face.</p><p>It hurt Wooyoung to understand how harsh San was being on himself.</p><p>“I’m sorry it took me so long to realise but I-I get it now. I don’t belong with your crowd. It was so arrogant of me to ever think I could. You belong with those people, Wooyoung. People who are confident of themselves. People who can go out without ever needing to blend into the wall to disappear. Not needy people who cling onto you like they’re going to break any moment you’re apart. <em>You don’t need people like me.</em>“</p><p>San untangles their fingers, pressing his shaky palms on his eyes. His chest rose and fell with heaviness, like as if the wave of vicious thoughts he’d been having were attacking his mind once again. He took deep breaths, but only enough for him to continue speaking. </p><p>“So, you don’t have to hang around me anymore. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to burden you anymore. You can-“</p><p>“Did I ever said you were?”</p><p>Removing his palms from his eyes, San darted his gaze towards Wooyoung. </p><p>Wooyoung himself was shaking. He had his fingers curled into fist, shivering, eyes squinted but with no hint of anger or disappointment. Rather, it was something more like a determination. Like a conviction to get his feelings across. Like there were so many unspoken words that needed to dust off the words coming from San and breathe love into them.</p><p>“Wooyoung, I-“</p><p>“Did I ever tell you to fuck off? That you were a weight I had to carry around? Like you <em>weren’t</em> one of the few people I <em>actually</em> want to be around? You think <em>you’re</em> the one who's hanging on to me? Because you’ve got that <em>hilariously</em> wrong.”</p><p>Wooyoung had to stifle the sour chuckle bubbling in his chest. He softly grabs the hand that had slipped away from him and held them gently, rubbing circles into them. The tone in his voice drops.</p><p>“San-ah, <em>I’m</em> the one who can’t seem to get away from you. <em>I’m</em> the one who can’t breathe without having you by my side. <em>I’m</em> the one who’d rather drown in tar than walk away from you because that would hurt <em>way</em> less. Meeting you, getting to know you and then eventually being your friend was like falling into quicksand, only I’m not even thinking of getting out.”</p><p>San was stunned into silence. He stared blankly at Wooyoung, eyes widened the size of golf balls. It was almost amusing enough that Wooyoung had to stop the laugh threatening to escape.</p><p>San's lips parted, then closed, then parted again like a fish out of water, but Wooyoung knew what he wanted to say.</p><p>“No, it’s not a joke. I actually can’t go a day without seeing you at <em>least</em> once. Why do you think I was going crazy the past few days? Not even a text? A response? I swear to god if I had to go <em>one</em> more day without seeing you, I was going drive a hole through the wall headfirst and I’m pretty sure Yeosang would gladly volunteer to help.”</p><p>A chuckle escapes San’s lips and hearing that lifted all the heaviness that had been weighing Wooyoung down the past few days. A smile replaced his lips, his eyes turning more gentle.</p><p>He had missed San so <em>fucking</em> much.</p><p>“Look. Those people at the party… sure, we talk in class or exchange remarks when we see each other, but to be honest with you, I couldn't give two shits about them. Hell, I wouldn't even give one! I’m not judging their lifestyle or personalities or anything, but… they’re not the type of people I’d necessarily like to associate myself with. They’re more into the wild side of youth. High on sex, drugs and everything in between. I saw how that lifestyle…destroyed my brother… which is why I said that you didn’t belong there.”</p><p>He remembered what he’d said to Hyunjin and the others when San was directly in the vicinity. What he meant by them, though, was completely different to what San might have thought, drove him out into the cold night and slip through his fingers so easily. </p><p>“You didn’t belong there not because those people were better than you. Nothing like that. I said that because… argh- I don’t know- maybe because I knew what kind of people they were- assholes, by the way-  and I know the kind of person you are. I’ve said this at the party and I’m saying this again. You are the most <em>beautiful</em> fucking person I’ve ever met. You make me so happy just being around you. One smile from you and you have me <em>reeling</em>. So, when you told me to kiss you- I thought- I was hoping that you- I-”</p><p>Suddenly, Wooyoung was stuttering. </p><p>Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the room for him to breath as his face flushed pink.</p><p>He promised himself he not to tell, but the words escape him before he could shut them in the cage and tie a tight seal on them. He almost balked at himself for the betrayal. He was afraid of how San would react, but the aching curiosity urged him to steal a glance at the other and to his surprise, San was <em>smiling sheepishly</em> at him. </p><p>His face was just as flushed as Wooyoung’s but there was a layer of glistening tears that hadn’t rolled down his cheeks. It wasn’t that of sadness. It was something more like… relief. Like there had been a heavy weight on his chest finally being lifted. </p><p>Like <em>he had felt the same way.</em></p><p>“Wooyoungie, you don’t know how fucking happy that makes me. Hearing you say that… it… it feels like a fucking dream.” He paused, suddenly, as his expression fell, making Wooyoung’s heart lodge itself in his throat. “But... but you and I are so different. I am a nobody who can't even breathe near people. And you are part of this… this crowd that-“</p><p>“Fuck those people.”</p><p>San had been startled by Wooyoung’s response, but Wooyoung had never felt so glad to be saying it. Those people were the same people who had hurt San. Had taken one look at him and decided that he wasn’t worth their time. Had struck up a disgusting image of San they had conjured up when they knew nothing about him.</p><p>Wooyoung was sick of them. </p><p>But he also had to give them credit. Because without them, he would have never come to the realisation on his own.</p><p>That there was something else that made San so <em>breakable</em>.</p><p>He realised that he had been trying to help San the wrong way. He was feeding him a mentality that wasn’t sustainable- that wasn’t <em>healthy</em>.</p><p>He realised that San’s idea of recovery was to be part of a crowd- <em>any</em> crowd, for that matter. That he would be considered normal if he was accepted by everyone else. And that the only way to do that was to act like everybody else. Which was why he relied so heavily Wooyoung.</p><p>
  <em>San didn’t feel comfortable in his own skin.</em>
</p><p>“Sannie, look.” He sighed, holding a grim expression on his face. “Being part of a crowd doesn’t mean <em>shit</em> if the crowd is a basket of rotten apples. I know how much you want to be a part of community and I really want that for you, too. But it’s also just as important that you choose the right people to surround yourself with too. Because when you mix with the right people, they’ll bring out the best in you. The parts in you that you love most.”</p><p>He paused for a while, waiting to see if San wanted to hop in and say something. But San remained silent, staring blankly back at him.</p><p>“I think… I think we’ve been going about this the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been doing so well and you’ve been so brave, stepping out of your comfort zone and facing your fears and I am so so proud of you for that, baby. But… You see, for the past few weeks, we’ve been so focused on trying to work on getting you the confidence to interact with people. But, Sannie, maybe we need to change that. Relying on others to feel the satisfaction of communication is <em>too</em> fragile a mindset.”</p><p>He sucks in his breath, fully aware that San was hanging on to his every word. But he was afraid of saying something wrong. He was afraid that San would snap, get angry at him for wasting his time and refuse to listen to anything more Wooyoung wanted to offer. </p><p>But on the other hand, he would imagine San, laughing carelessly like he would in his dorm, the pressure of his impeding thoughts not weighing him down anymore.</p><p>That was a chance Wooyoung was willing to take.</p><p>“Maybe what you needed to learn instead was <em>self-love</em>. Love for the personality that you have. Love for all the quirks and characteristics that make you Choi San. Because when you love yourself- when you <em>truly</em> love yourself and accept yourself for who you are, your shield of confidence and self-trust, they would be <em>impenetrable</em>. So, let’s try again, yeah? This time, with a new focus.“</p><p>Wooyoung hadn’t meant to sound cheesy. He didn’t mean to sound like a BTS album. But he wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t <em>true</em>.</p><p>He wasn’t an exception to the vices life had to offer. He’s had his fair share of mental breakdowns and identity crisis. They tore him down like a bulldozer, making him question his sole purpose for living. Back then, Wooyoung had felt <em>terrible</em>. He felt like the pile of dogshit on a pavement on a scorching summer day, but it was a feeling that lingered every day.</p><p>But he had learnt to love himself.</p><p>He found and did things that made him happy, making lists of things about himself that he was proud of, and slowly but gradually, he’d learnt to love the soul that lived in his body and bore the name Jung Wooyoung with pride.</p><p>And he would do <em>anything</em> for San- or anyone- to feel the same, liberating and empowering feeling that he had discovered for himself.</p><p>But he waited for San’s response.</p><p>The pointed blankness in his face hadn’t faltered since the start of Wooyoung’s long ass speech, but he knew San was processing everything he had said. It was hard to imagine- the feeling of self-love- if you’ve never felt it before. But Wooyoung was determined to help San even if it would take days, weeks, months or <em>years</em>.</p><p>Wooyoung was going to name everything about San and build a bridge between them and San’s heart.</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>The small voice snaps him from his thoughts, eyes racing over every nook of San’s face. The tight lips that were pulled before relaxes, releasing a gentle smile that matched his own. His expression was a bit of confusion, a mask of worry, but <em>full</em> of resolution.</p><p>Wooyoung couldn’t stop the smile that attacked his lips as he jumped from his seat, throwing his arms around San and pulling him close for a hug. </p><p>They were going to take this step by step.</p><p>When he pulled away, the adoration that filled San’s expression could almost <em>melt</em> him. He leaned in, placing a kiss on his forehead.</p><p>They were going to try again.</p><p>This time, they were going to do it <em>right</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Writing this chapter was hard. There were so many things I wanted to address during their talk but I still had to keep the flow of the story. </p><p>I just wanted to let you all know that having a mental illness sucks. It's hard and suffocating and makes you feel so lonely like you have no one to reach out to.</p><p>But you're not trapped.</p><p>It's a message I have to constantly tell myself but it's also a message that is true. </p><p>I'm so blessed to have people to lean on and I'm more than willing to do the same for you.</p><p>If you ever need to reach out to somebody, I can be here for you too.</p><p>Other than that, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p><p>Don't forget to leave comments and kudos!</p><p>See you in the last chapter~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You can remove the white sheet now. You don't have to be afraid anymore.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>San learns what it truly means to be seen.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter came out later than I expected, whoops.</p><p>Anyways, this is the last chapter of the story!</p><p>I had so much fun writing this chapter and got to say what I wanted to say.</p><p>Hope you enjoy reading the last chapter of this Woosan adventure!</p><p>Leave kudos and comments at the end and let me know what you feel about the story.</p><p>Other than that, thank you for giving my work a chance. Enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>San was waiting patiently at the bus stop near their school, the seat high enough for him to swing his legs. He whipped out his phone to check the time, but the onslaught of texts that decorated his screen was clearly more distracting.</p><p><strong>wooyoung:</strong> hey, I’m all set up. I think we got everything we need.<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> I hope.<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> I’ll double check again. what time are you gonna be here?<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> OK FUCK WE’RE MISSING THE SOY SAUCE. <br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> FUCK SAN WE’RE MISSING THE FUCKING SOY SAUCE WHERE ARE YOU<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> oh wait no nvm I found it lol<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> wait where the hell are you</p><p>The chuckle escapes him freely as he swipes through the texts.</p><p>San had never really known just how fun group assignments could be. He’d always been dodging any projects that needed a partner, more often willing to take on the all the work on himself (after sliding some packed kimchi to the teacher as a bargain). But working with Wooyoung had opened so many missed opportunities for him. </p><p>Although, it was safe to say Wooyoung was a <em>shit</em> partner when under the crack of pressure.</p><p>He sends a quick text telling him that he was on his way and pockets his phone just as the person he’d been waiting for steps out of a cab.</p><p>“Yeosangie! You’re here!” He throws his arms around the blonde boy, who was taken aback by the sudden contact, but returns the hug anyway. When they pull away, San rolls on the balls of his feet in anticipation. “Did you get it? Did you get it?”</p><p>Yeosang watches him, amused, as he reaches his pocket for a squarish, leather box. “You know, you act so much like him. You two are spending <em>way</em> too much time together.”</p><p>San only waves him off as he receives the box, opening it slowly to reveal the shiny jewellery that he had spent so much time over the past week desperately searching for. Most jewellery stores online were ridiculously expensive or had been sold out that San almost wailed over it. It wasn't until Yeosang had peeked over his frustrated state and scanned his laptop screen that he had told him his cousin was selling the same jewellery. In exchange for a couple of bucks, a bucket of chicken and a promise to <em>shut up</em>, Yeosang went out of his way to pick up the box of jewellery for him.</p><p>Now that it was in his hold, he couldn't stop the stupid grin from taking over his face.</p><p>He heard the sound of a camera click go off and snapped up to see the phone Yeosang was holding out in front of him. The other had only told him that it was necessary for 'future situations' but San just shrugs, eyes fixated on the beautiful, silver ornament in the box.</p><p>“Do you think he’ll like it? Do think he’ll say yes?”</p><p>Yeosang pauses, staring pointedly at him. He flicks through the contents of his phone before shoving it in San’s face.</p><p>It was a picture of Wooyoung. He was working the stove of their dorm, sleeves pulled back as he flips the egg in the pan. But San’s eyes were drawn to his expression. His lips were pulled back into a dopey smile, making his cheekbones ever prominent. There was a glint in his eyes that almost made them twinkle. Every inch of his face exuded a radiance that made him <em>glow</em>.</p><p>“This is how he looks like when he talks about you.”</p><p>Those mere words had spread a wave of warmth through his chest as he stared at Yeosang wide eyed. Yeosang’s pointed look before softened into a gentle smile that took over his features.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re doing this. You two are good for each other.”</p><p>And San truly agreed.</p><p>For as long as he could remember, he had been wandering through his life in the darkness, passing through the motions and waiting for days to turn into nights so he could slip into his cold room and drown himself in the isolation. </p><p>It was as if Wooyoung had come into his darkness and turned on the lights.</p><p>Suddenly, everything had seemed so much brighter. He was no longer afraid of waking up to the sun, expecting to burn through the day. But rather, he finally realised that the sun wasn’t there to burn him, but to give him warmth. He found himself looking forward to more days than he would the nights. He was looking forward to the people he grew to love and the experiences he was willing to anticipate.</p><p>“Thanks, Sangie.” He smiles, then pauses for a bit. Yeosang must have caught the question in his eyes because he waves <em>him</em> off this time.</p><p>“I’m keeping it for evidence against the both of you so you won’t <em>ever</em> complain when I talk about Mingi.”</p><p>San took quick strides across the campus while reading the oncoming texts from his panicking partner. He made a quick glance at the time and almost choked at how late he was.</p><p><strong>wooyoung:</strong> ok our presentation is starting in 20 fucking minutes and I don’t see UR ASS ANYWHERE<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> sannie I swear to u mr yang is just itching to mark us down WHERE ARE YOU<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> wait are you alright?<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> do you need me to get you?<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> ok but if everything is actually alright and I don’t see ur ass here soon I’m breaking ur legs and feeding them to ur animal friends in the park<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> but seriously, let me know?</p><p><strong>san:</strong> hey baby I’m so sorry. running a little late. had to pick up something. I’ll be right there, okay? you’ll be fine, mr yang is probably too dead asleep to care. I’ll be there soon, alright?<br/><strong>san:</strong> and stop obsessing over my ass, creep</p><p>He felt bad, for sure, knowing how nervous Wooyoung would get every time they had to sit for a test or an exam. On any other day, he would already be by his side, rubbing circles on his back to soothe his nerves. San would only speak words of encouragement and of how much he believes in him.</p><p>He wanted to be there for Wooyoung just as Wooyoung had been for San.</p><p>Wooyoung had given him everything he could have only dreamt of before.</p><p>It was almost crazy to think that only a few months ago, San had roamed around the campus alone, trapped in a forcefield between him and the people around him. He hadn’t had the courage to look at his passing classmates in the eye for the fear of the inevitable humiliation they could threaten him with. </p><p>But here he was, waving and greeting other people who did the same as he manoeuvred through the crowded hallway. No longer was he ducking his head, body rigid with an air of pretence and every means of avoiding any kind of conversation. His whole demeanour was more welcoming, radiating a fresh breath of confidence.</p><p>No words could ever mask the gratitude he had for Wooyoung.</p><p>Months had passed since that night in the hospital. The night Wooyoung made him realise that he had given up far too much far too fast. It hadn't an easy realisation to come to, though. Everything Wooyoung had said about self-love felt like a concept too distant to comprehend.</p><p>Love? For himself? </p><p>How could he ever love himself when his mind was consuming his soul and overtaking his life?</p><p>But he had to give it a try. Even if he didn’t believe in himself back then, he had to swallow the thick tension in his throat and believe in Wooyoung. </p><p>Because Wooyoung had held him so tight that night. </p><p>Despite him walking away, ignoring the relentless visits, and landing himself in the <em>hospital</em>, Wooyoung was still there. Right next to him.</p><p><em>That</em> realisation was easier to come to. </p><p>Wooyoung had promised him from the start that he would be there for him. </p><p>And he was… <em>every time.</em> </p><p>It was like the overwhelming love and dedication that Wooyoung was willing to give him had drowned the battle in his mind and tamed the fear in his heart. And he was so <em>so</em> glad that he had chosen to trust Wooyoung then.</p><p><strong>wooyoung:</strong> well if u want me to stop obsessing over ur ass, then make sure ur pretty ass is HERE where I can see it<br/><strong>wooyoung:</strong> also, yunho texted. he asked if there was soda at ur place? he’ll bring some over later if u don’t </p><p>San quickly replies a ‘cola please’, ignoring the comment about his bottocks. Excitement pools in his chest at the thought of the gathering he had planned for the afternoon. Especially since it would be the first time all eight of them came over his place for games and food.</p><p>Despite the fact that the memories of the night at the party left a bitter taste in his mouth, he had to admit, he hadn’t thought about how much he <em>enjoyed</em> dancing. When he told Wooyoung about it during a late night conversation, the other boy was already flying across the room, grabbing his laptop to find the closest dance classes in their area. He told San that it was the perfect opportunity for him to build his confidence by trying out a hobby he could potentially find passion in.</p><p>It was later that week that he, Wooyoung, Yeosang and Mingi (because Mingi had sneakily enrolled himself and Yeosang in, complaining that they ‘spend too much time going on dates eating chicken, it’s time to branch out’, although Wooyoung knew it was his chance to watch Yeosang all sweaty during practice) found themselves at a dance studio, facing four other students who would later also become a huge part of San’s life.</p><p>Yunho had been the longest student there, long enough to qualify himself as their dance teacher. He was meticulous when he taught the rest of them moves, even the most high-level ones that had San’s body aching all over. But when the class ended, all the seriousness he’d taken up during practice washed away, jumping up and down with wide smiles and a bubbly energy that San could only endear him to a puppy.</p><p>Seonghwa was usually the one calming him down- calming everyone down. He reminded San so much of his mother, always telling them to rest when they needed it and hydrate themselves regularly. But when Wooyoung and San went on breaks together, he’d squeeze himself between them like a child, not leaving them alone until they’d let him tag along.</p><p>Hongjoong nagged as much as Seonghwa would, but for a completely different reason. He nagged when Wooyoung, Yunho, Yeosang and Mingi (and sometimes San when he’s overcharged with adrenaline) would get overexcited, raising the tension in the room that there wouldn’t even be a moment of peace. A lot of ‘don’t do that’, ‘stop it’ and ‘what the hell are you doing’ would escape his lips, but San noticed that they only came with an adoring sigh and a tender smile after.</p><p>Then, there was Jongho, who was usually reserved like San was. But once he was all warmed up, the boy was belting his favourite songs as they played them in the background <em>during</em> practice. San had never met someone with such powerful lungs he had thought that the latter should have been a Kpop idol or something.</p><p>It was crazy- almost <em>unbelievable</em> that San had started the semester without any friends.</p><p>Now, he had seven everlasting ones.</p><p>The void that resided in his heart for as long as he knew were slowly filling up to every nook and cranny. The emptiness that ate away in his chest now planted with the love he had for every one of them. San had always thought having friends was a luxury he didn’t deserve, but they had all accepted him for all that he was. For every quirk and insecurity he had. And he had never felt so contented <em>being</em> <em>around people.</em></p><p>Wooyoung had been right, once again, when he told San that choosing the right company would help him bring out the best in himself. </p><p>Joining the dance group and completing the friendship circle that he now had was a turning point in his life. Other than expanding his social circle and building the social skills that warranted it, San was beginning to feel proud of what he could do. He had never pegged himself as a dancer- there had simply been no occasion where he felt the need to dance. </p><p>But when given the space and the encouragement to do so, San felt the rhythm flow through his body, translating them into movements that harmonised well with the music. And when he hears the continuing cheers from his friends, the seed of confidence in his chest grew. He would lose himself in the beat of the song and when he looked up to observe the wall-length mirrors that surrounded the studio, he didn’t see a person with overriding thoughts and a feigning confidence under the stares of others.</p><p>He saw a person who was doing what he loved, surrounded by the people he loved, wearing an expression that <em>truly </em>described the content he felt inside.</p><p>For the first time, he saw <em>himself</em>. Not the person his mind tricked him into thinking he was.</p><p>And San understood.</p><p>Self-love wasn’t that hard. </p><p>In that moment, he loved the person he was seeing. Someone who had courage in the movements that he took, assurance in the words he spoke, <em>trust</em> in the judgements he made. In that moment, self-love flourished through his veins like a drug he needed all along.</p><p>“Hey, sorry I’m late.” San greets, placing a peck on Wooyoung’s cheeks, who immediately stiffens at the sudden contact, then relaxes, facing him with his arms crossed and a less than convincing frown on his face.</p><p>“You know, I was gonna get mad at you, but that kiss caught me off guard and now I can’t remember what I was going to say,” he huffed.</p><p>San lets the snicker escape his lips as he pulls Wooyoung by the waist and giving him a longer kiss on the same cheek. Wooyoung melts at the touch as his cheeks burn a bright pink.</p><p>“I hope that helped your panicking ass?”</p><p>“You are <em>dangerous</em> for my heart, Choi San.”</p><p>He only laughs in response, heading over to the sink to wash his hands, ready to work on their final assignment together.</p><hr/><p>As soon as the bell rang at the end of class, Wooyoung hadn’t even had the chance to sling his bag over his shoulder properly before San was grabbing his wrist and pulling him out towards the courtyard. Ignoring the cries of ‘what’s going on’, ‘where are we going’ and ‘are you kidnapping me’, San places Wooyoung on a spot that hid them well from the packs of students leaving their classes. He takes a seat in front of him, only smiling in response to Wooyoung’s mixed with confusion.</p><p>“Close your eyes and give me your hand.”</p><p>“Sannie, what are you-“</p><p>“Do it or I’ll tell Yeosang you ate his last piece of chicken.”</p><p>Wooyoung immediately sealed his lips, shutting his eyes tight and extending his delicate wrist in his reach. San had to pause for a second to look at the beautiful person sitting right in front of him, letting a soft smile graze his lips. He reached into his bag and pulled out the box he had received from Yeosang earlier, carefully taking out the jewellery that sat in it without a sound and wrapped it around Wooyoung’s tiny wrist. </p><p>When it clicked together, Wooyoung couldn’t mask the gasp and the stunned look as his eyes flew open. His lips parted, darting his gaze between the bracelet and San and to the bracelet again. The words die in his mouth.</p><p>“Wooyoungie, I know we’ve been tipping around this for a while and we agreed not to discuss it until I got better, but I think- no, I’m goddamn <em>sure as hell</em> am ready for it now.” </p><p>San takes his hands gently, placing them close to his chest like a magnetic pull. Wooyoung had those galaxies in his eyes again that had always made San feel so centred.</p><p>“My life was <em>hell</em> before I met you. I was only breathing for the sole purpose of being alive, but not actually living. But then... you came into my life and changed all that.” He wets his lips, the smile never leaving his face nor did his eyes break contact with Wooyoung’s rounded ones. “I was trapped in a box I had put myself in and didn’t find the means to break out even when I was searching for fresh air. But then, you opened that box and not only did you pull me out, but you helped me find the strength to get out of it on my own too.”</p><p>“Very poetic.”</p><p>“Let me finish.”</p><p>Wooyoung chuckles.</p><p>“Thank you for being such a stubborn ass and sticking by my side even when I’m about to give up on myself. Thank you for inviting yourself and making yourself at home in the space within my heart.” “-There’s the kick.” “Thank you for helping me find the road to falling back in love with myself, and at the same time, letting me fall in love with you.”</p><p>There was a sharp intake of breath and Wooyoung’s expression grew ever alert, lips locked tightly.</p><p>“Jung Wooyoung,” he breathes, pausing to inch closer towards the other, “will you be my boyfriend?”</p><p>At first, the boy freezes.</p><p>Between the two of them, they had always known that they were something more than friends. The love that San had for his other friends was different from the love he that had for Wooyoung. And it was a feeling that was reciprocated. They always knew, but they had never put a label on it themselves. Wooyoung had told him that he wasn’t about to be in a relationship with San until they were sure San wasn’t dependent on their relationship for happiness. He wanted San to build a solid happiness for himself first.</p><p>But it had always been without question that they were anything more than friends. </p><p>And finally hearing the words coming from San… it felt new.</p><p>Like there had finally been a sense of clarity between them. Like they were finally locked in place with a name to call each other <em>'</em><em>mine'.</em></p><p>“Um, I hope your answer is yes. Otherwise, it would be very awkward for me to ask for the bracelet back and find another owner for it.”</p><p>Wooyoung finally slackens, a dizzying smile breaking onto his face. He threw himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around San as if to put all the things he wanted to say in a tight hug.</p><p>“Shut up, you idiot. You know what my answer is.”</p><p>San lets the broad smile settle on his face as he snakes his arms around Wooyoung’s waist, squeezing just as tightly. When they pulled apart, Wooyoung stops merely inches away from his face. their breaths collided while his arms stayed in their place around his neck. For a moment, San could only hear the synchronisations of their breaths and the faintest increase of blood rushing to his ears.</p><p>Wooyoung’s dark eyes bore deeply into San’s before flicking down to his lips, a teasing smile playing on his own.</p><p>“Can you kiss me?”</p><p>The brightest shade of red consumes San’s face as he recalls the night of the party where he uttered the same words. Wooyoung merely stifles the chuckle that shook his chest as he leans back.</p><p>Ignoring the burning flame of his cheeks, San brings a finger to boy's forehead, pulling back before releasing a delicate, yet forceful flick. Wooyoung gasps, eyes wide as he covers the wounded area in an attempt to numb the throbbing.</p><p>“That’s for teasing me.”</p><p>Before Wooyoung could bite back a response, he took his lips and moulded them with his own. The warmth, tingly sensation of their lips physically melts the other as his arm slides into position around San’s neck. The knot in his stomach unfurls as his fingers curled. Wooyoung tasted of the gummies he had snuck in class, forcing San to suppress the urge to giggle. He feels Wooyoung's soft fingers run through his hair and the <em>slightest</em> sound of a moan, the uncontrollably fattest smile curls his lips.</p><p>When they finally break apart to find the oxygen to fill their lungs, Wooyoung was staring at him with a dazed look in his eyes, cheeks flushed and mind reeling from the kiss they had.</p><p>“And <em>that</em> is for loving me.”</p><p>Giddiness took over his senses watching the boy he loves (and also the most passionate kiss San has ever had with) stare back at him with a dumbstruck smile. Oh, he was in it <em>so deep.</em></p><p>Breaths regulated and the dizzying euphoria fleeting from their immediate sensations, Wooyoung readjusts himself, turning and resting his back on San’s chest. San breathes in the shampoo from his hair as the other intertwines their hands, running a finger on the pretty bracelet on his wrist.</p><p>“Wow, if this is what I get from you asking me to be your boyfriend, then I can’t <em>wait</em> to see what I get when you ask me to marry you.”</p><p>San chokes on his saliva.</p><hr/><p>“Uno, losers!” Yeosang cries as he slaps his remaining card on the stack sitting in the middle of the table. </p><p>The rest of them groan as he returns the high-five and prideful smile from Mingi, who sat right next to him with an arm around his waist.</p><p>“Why do we keep playing this game when we <em>know</em> those bastards are going to cheat <em>every time.</em>” Jongho discards his suit of cards before running his hands through his hair in frustration.</p><p>“That’s because this is the <em>only</em> game they know how to cheat in. They suck at every other game,” Yunho replies, tossing his deck onto the table while shooting a dark expression at the two cheaters seating next to him.</p><p>“Take it easy, you guys,” Hongjoong sighs, piling the cards back into the deck. “It’s not their fault they can’t handle losing honestly-oh shit wait- <em>it is</em>.”</p><p>Seonghwa bites his lips, looking conflicted between the two parties in conversation. He’d been quiet the entire game but San knew that the elder had struck a secret deal with Yeosang to help him win in exchange for free lunch. He’d seen the sneaky shuffle of eyes between the two throughout the game.</p><p>“You know, Seonghwa hyung made-“</p><p>“San-ah! Shut up!”</p><p>“Seonghwa hyung did wha-“</p><p>“Wait, are these- Seonghwa <em>did you switch cards with Yeosang and Mingi?!"</em></p><p>In a blink of an eye, bodies were piled upon bodies. Hongjoong tackles Seonghwa to the ground while the other two tossed themselves over Yeosang and Mingi, although Yeosang had only attempted to crawl his way out, letting Mingi take the brunt of the attack. </p><p>San doesn’t stop the laugh that reverberated off his chest as his threw his head back and letting amusement fall from his lips, unapologetic at the shit he’s stirred. When he composes himself and straightened once again, he’s met with Wooyoung’s face with his lips curled upwards and an affectionate smile adorning his features. He had been making himself at home in the space on San’s lap, leaning into his chest ever since they had first sat down.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Nothing.” He smiles. “You’re just so beautiful when you smile.”</p><p>His cheeks tinted at the sudden compliment as Wooyoung lifts a finger to trace the outline of his jaw. “God must really love me if he sent <em>you</em> into my life and made you mine.”</p><p>The poetics fall from his mouth like they had been playing in his mind for a while. San had to admit. Wooyoung had a way with words that always sent a rush of heat blooming in his chest and his mind in a frenzy. </p><p>“Says you. I never knew how I could ever be so lucky to have someone like you in my life. I’m serious, Wooyoung. Having all this,” he makes a quick gesture to their surroundings with his eyes, “was only a fever dream before. But, you taught me that I deserve- had <em>always</em> been worthy of the happiness that was waiting for me.”</p><p>It hadn’t been an easy battle with his mind. Even in the course of finding reasons to love himself, he stumbled, doubted himself and fought tooth and nail with his urge to give up and wallow in the hatred dwelling in his heart. But every time he had slipped back into the darkness, Wooyoung had been there to guide him back. Whether it would be sitting in silence, rubbing circles into his back as he cried his eyes raw, or whispering reassurances and love letters into his ears until he felt a glimmer of hope rekindle in his chest. </p><p>But, he made it. </p><p>Although he wasn’t sure he had completely embraced or even understood the self-love he was striving for, Wooyoung had told him the truth. That the more he understood and the more reasons he found to be proud of himself for, the stronger he felt about himself at heart. </p><p>And <em>that</em> had been the new shield that guarded his heart as he walks down the crowded hallways and past the people who would never bat an eyelash at him. </p><p>For a long time, he’d always thought that he was built like a house of cards, one blow away from crumbling in humiliation. That every look he’d receive was meant to send daggers through his heart and every laugh in his way mocking the way he handled himself. </p><p>But he came to learn that no one was as critically invested in himself than <em>he</em> was. And the people who <em>did</em> turn their judgements on him didn’t matter because they didn’t know the person he truly was. </p><p>The person who was allowed to love. To make mistakes. To experience life with all it’s beauty and vices.</p><p>And coming to that realisation and knowing that Wooyoung had been the one to lead him there only made him fall <em>deeper</em> in love. </p><p>He locked his eyes with the pooling ones in front of him.</p><p>“Wooyoungie... can I kiss you?”</p><p>Wooyoung chuckles lightly. “You know, if we’re going to keep asking every time we kiss, I’m gonna save you some time and tell you that I doubt I would <em>ever</em> refuse that offer.”</p><p>It was all he needed to seal the kiss on his lips. The kiss was different to the ones they’ve shared before. He breathed every kind of love into it. </p><p>Love for the struggle he went through that made him who he presently was.</p><p>Love for the resilience and effort that went into his recovery.</p><p>Love for the boy who made it all happen.</p><p>They chuckled into the kiss when a cacophony of groans and disgust were directed at their public affection. Yeosang had even managed to snap a quick picture right before they pulled apart, saving it into the album labeled ‘evidence’ in his gallery. </p><p>Wooyoung and San allowed a brief moment for each other to simply stare. The mutual loving grin graced their expressions before unwillingly shuffling back closer to the table, where Mingi was already dealing the cards for the next game. (Of course not without the murmurs of ‘we’re not seriously playing another round are we’ and ‘shut up, we’ll show you guys’)</p><p>San looks around the room, at the faces of the people who he’d grown inseparable to. A fresh wave of emotions wash over his chest, encasing him in a warmth he felt at peace with.</p><p>
  <em>It was contentment. </em>
</p><p>The <em>liberating feeling</em> of removing the white sheet that had suffocated him for so long before. </p><p>He was no longer the ghost he thought he was. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>IT'S FINALLY OVER.</p><p>Wow. I didn't realise how much love I would have for this story. Even as I was writing it, there were so many moments where I thought the words I was writing were the advice I needed for myself.</p><p>The more I wrote, the more I wanted people to feel the same way about mental health recovery. That it is a process and not a change that happens overnight. That at the very core of it, it was a road leading back to ourselves and what we deemed important to us.</p><p>Just as San had Wooyoung and the others to support him through his recovery, I hope you find the people who will support you through yours.</p><p>On a lighter note, I really really hope you enjoyed my story and thank you so so much for giving it a read. Every kudos and every comment that I've received so far is overwhelming and I really appreciate you for taking a chance on me.</p><p>Hope this story has made a positive impact on your day! Leave your thoughts about the story in the comments and let me know what you thought!</p><p>Hope to see you in my next story :D</p>
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